June 17, 2006

South Mouth

Our last trip to SF turned into an exploration of the Southern/soul options there. The following is by no means exhaustive and we welcome future recommendations.Lunch at Memphis Minnie's: We've been there before and actually the last time was better. My ribs were a little charred on the ends, perfect for the GM but not me. I appreciate that they do BBQ without sauce and although no one would mistake this for Flint's, they do a credible job. When I lived in SF this location was called Spaghetti Western and was a hipster breakfast joint. The cooks all wore their knives at the hip in homemade scabbards.

The GM tried chili cheese fries made with smoked brisket and she proclaimed it the best she's had. The verdict: I'm sure we'll wind up there again, if only because as opposed to other BBQ spots, it's actually possible to sit down and enjoy the meal at the restaurant, rather than having to take it to go.

Dinner at the Elite Cafe: The last time we tried the Elite we ended up having one of the most monumental fights we've had in years. However, we were able to agree that the biscuits were among the best we've had. We decided to give the place (and ourselves) another try. When we walked in, the hostess said, "Oh I remember you. You have the restaurant in XXX". We were hoping she didn't remember us for any other reason, and I don't think she did.

My seafood gumbo was credible. Nice and dark, the roux seemed properly made. The GM went for a salad, romaine with grilled red onions, lemon-caper dressing and dry jack. Not exactly Southern but hey... It's a really nice feeling restaurant. It feels like an old, burnished but slightly down at the heels Southern place. Definitely an atmosphere I would try to create.

As we were dining I was thinking about how much I really love Southern food. Indeed I think it's the only real American cuisine. Yes there are pockets of good regional dishes, but only in Southern cooking do I find the combination of flavor, hospitality and the sense of enjoyment and well-being that a good meal, well-shared can bring. But that's just me.

At any rate I was feeling a little jealous, wanting a Southern restaurant of my own. But, I know that I would feel restless being locked into that idiom and would inevitably lose focus. Then I counted up the menu items. Out of 34 items, 14 were distinctly identifiable as Southern. The rest could easily fall into the catch-all California designation. Yet, the place feels like a Southern restaurant. Perhaps it's the decor, the waiters uniforms or my own association with it, having worked there in 1990 as a culinary student.

Or maybe it's the biscuits. When a restaurant doesn't serve bread what they do serve seems to define it. Chips and salsa on the table? You could probably serve hamburgers and people would identify the place as Mexican. After eating a salad and a basket of naan, you'd probably register Indian. So the biscuits. Still good, but this time on the same level as the rest of the meal, which is not to say to the rest of the meal reached the heights of the biscuits, but that the biscuits seem to have fallen to rest of the dishes. The Peter Principle of food if you will. Don't get me wrong, they were quite good, just not as good as the previous visit.

I tried a chicken liver brochette with balsamic and nectarine sauces. Again not Southern and that's when I realized just how unSouthern the Elite was. The livers were fine as were the sauces but they could have left off the tired, undressed greens. Note to cooks anywhere: If you are going to garnish your plate with something edible, it should be edible, ideally palatable. Otherwise, leave it off.

The GM had pan roasted chicken with what they said was going to be broccoli rabe and wild mushrooms. While I saw portobello and perhaps chanterelle, I saw nary a rabe. Plenty of red and yellow bell peppers though. The accompanying grits fries were really good. Crispy on the outside and warm and melting within.

Lunch at Q: After a visit a few years ago that left me largely unimpressed I have successfully avoided the GM's attempts to steer us back to Q. However, once we started on this quasi-Southern theme and found ourselves a block away I threw caution to the winds and agreed to return. Never again.

The GM's chicken was crusty yet had no flavor. My catfish was decent, the corn relish was nice and the "garlic fries" cooked well, although perhaps more accurately named "Lawry's seasoning fries". The sweet tea (which I don't have often but use a benchmark for whether a place understands the culture they're trying to replicate) was not sweet enough. A quibble you say? Yes, but using the drink as a benchmark underscores the entire experience which can be summed by saying, "There's quite a difference between funky and sloppy."

The verdict: Never again.

Dinner at Farmer Brown: If we hadn't been meeting people we probably wouldn't have tried Farmer Brown. Not because we wouldn't want to, but because the place looks not only closed, but closed for a long time. The windows are cracked (which Jon thinks might be deliberate and I think he's right), there's paper over much of the windows, the awnings are filthy with pigeon poop and the neon open sign in the front window was turned off. Note to the fine folks at Farmer Brown: I understand you might want to keep a low profile in the neighborhood, but you have to let your customers know you want them to come in. At the very least take the open sign out of the window if you're not going to turn it on. Washing the awnings wouldn't hurt either. Being discrete doesn't mean being uninviting.

The sweet tea. Tooth numbingly sweet, the way it should be. The gumbo. Less credible than the Elite. I didn't try the GM's salad, Jon's carrot-ginger soup or Joy's salad but they all remarked that they were fine choices. My catfish po-boy was good, my only complaint was the slaw. The slaw was good mind you, but they put the slaw on the sandwich and then used the slaw as a side dish. Just a little too much slaw going on there. The GM's Fulton Valley fried chicken made up for the tasteless chicken at Q. Crispy, good flavorful crust and moist within. The spicy mac & cheese made a good pairing. Joy's pulled pork sandwich was good, but not North Carolina pulled pork, which is what I hear when I think pulled pork. Jon seemed a little disappointed with his trout which I didn't try.

The verdict: We'd definitely go again. The prices are right and the food was good. A little more attention to detail (slaw upon slaw) and this place could shine. If they stay open that is. A sketchy location and an unlit entry don't equal a recipe for success. Best wishes folks.

We tried to go to Star's (no, not that one silly, this one is in Marin City) on Kudzu's recommendation. She warned us they keep inconsistent hours, however they are now closed for good. We had to make do with Nepalese food in Santa Rosa (more about that later).

Right now it's time to get my own ribs cooking. They've been marinating in a dry rub all night and ready for a low and slow oven.

Southern Food does noit do well here because when you say The South here they think O.C.

But for a true round robin of soul food you will need to come to Oakland. Try Nellie's-- it's close to nothing except the Kenworth truck shop. I thought my Sweet Tea was the best I had ever had and the Baby Backs were good too. On Fridays they are supposed to have Okra!!

memphies minnie's is on my block, let me know when you go back there. As for farmer brown, the awning cannot be more than a few month old, those are vigourous pigeons they got downtown. I also want to hear what you thought of nopa.

I found it interesting your comment that the Southern food is the only real American cuisine. By this, do you mean the only cuisine with a distinctive heritage?

Being based in the UK we're forever worrying what our indigenous cuisine actually is. I'm still not sure you could put your finger on it, except for basic roasts, stews etc that are seen, in one form or another, throughout Northern Europe.

Ced: I'm reserving comments on Nopa until I've had a proper meal there. A surprise party for a weary pregnant lady returning from a week in Tulum attended by 15 or so food bloggers in a very hot mezzanine on the first week the restaurant opened said mezzanine doesn't make for a realistic assessment. Not that I didn't enjoy myself but my attention was not on the food.

Silverbrow: What I mean is that Southern cooking, unlike most of our other regional foods has depth and breadth. There are certainly regional specialties, clam chowder, boiled dinner, lobster rolls and baked beans evoking the Northeast, particularly the MA coast; Cincinnati Chili in, well, Cincinnati; beef on weck in upstate NY; Philly cheesesteaks, you get the idea.

None of these though come close to Southern cooking in number of dishes and in being able to serve a meal to a stranger and have them place the food they're eating within the framework of a particular cuisine. Possibly the aforementioned New England dishes, but after the ones mentioned, throw in a clambake and you've pretty much exhausted the options. Not so with food from the South.

I am, of course, biased given my Southern upbringing, but I would go so far as to say that only the South is its own distinct region with all that implies -- cuisine, dialect, historical framework, custom, literature, music, and sense of self. Anyway, I keep hearing Powell's is the most authentic but I can't bring myself to go out for southern cooking. If it reminded me of home, it would make me cry, and if it failed, it would make me even more self-righteous than I already am!